The following was written on the envelope enclosing a very long letter from Mrs. Grattan, and was written, I think, in 1840:—­

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“I cannot avoid squeezing in a few words more just as the ship is on the point of sailing or steaming away for England ...  ‘The President’ has been a fatal title this spring.  Poor Harrison, a good and honest man, died in a month after he was elected, and this fine ship, about which we have been at this side of the Atlantic so painfully excited ever since March, is, I fear, gone down with its gallant captain (Roberts, with whom we crossed the Atlantic in the British Queen) and poor Power, whom the public cannot afford to lose.

“Since I wrote my letter three days ago—­pardon the boldly original topic—­the weather has mended considerably.  Tell Tom that every tree is also striving to turn over a new leaf, and it is well for you that I have not another to turn too.  God bless you.

“T.C.G.”

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I beg to observe that the exhortation addressed to me had no moral significance, but was the writer’s characteristic mode of exciting me to new scribblements.

The following, also written on the envelope enclosing a letter from Mrs. Grattan, is dated the 30th of July, 1840:—­

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“I cannot let the envelope go quite a blank, though I cannot quite make it a prize ...  In literature I have done nothing but write a preface and notes for two new editions of the old Highways and Byeways, and a short sketchy article in this month’s number of the North American Review on the present state of Ireland.  I am going to follow it up in the next number in reference to the state of the Irish in America, and I hope I shall thus do some good to a subject I have much at heart.  I have had various applications to deliver lectures at Lyceums, &c, and to preside at public meetings for various objects.  All this I have declined.  I have been very much before the public at dinners for various purposes, and have refused many invitations to several neighbouring cities.  I must now draw back a little.  I think I have hitherto done good to the cause of peace and friendship between the countries.  But I know these continued public appearances will expose me to envy, hatred, and malice.  I hope to do something historical by and by, and perhaps an occasional article in the North American Review.  But anything like light writing I never can again turn to.”

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From a very long letter written on the 13th of May, 1841, I will give a, few extracts:—­

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